dear little me,
the girl who cried quietly into pillows,
who thought the world would never open its fists-
you didn't know back then
that pain could make a home in your bones
and still let you dance sometimes.
some days we fly, some days we crawl.
but every day, we're still here.
you didn't know that growing up
meant breaking a hundred times
just to find the pieces worth keeping.
you learned to laugh with a crack in your voice,
to love people who didn't always stay.
some days felt like forever,
others slipped through your fingers like sand.
you still get angry.
you still cry in the dark sometimes,
but now you know it's not weakness-
it's the storm passing through.
and you?
you're the sky it never breaks.
we learned to love and lose,
to tell the difference
between a bruise and a wound that never healed.
we're still learning how to let the sadness go
without letting the anger take the wheel.
we're practicing how not to keep it all in,
how not to carry every wrong like it's ours.
still blaming ourselves for things
we were never meant to hold.
and we're still trying to be perfect-
whatever that means-
and god,
that's what makes it so hard to live.
maybe the future me will finally get it.
maybe she'll be free.
there are moments,
tiny golden seconds,
when the world is soft again-
a song, a smile, a sky that looks like home.
you made it to the memories part,
the messy beautiful ones.
i won't lie to you-
some of the pain stayed.
some days still feel too heavy to carry.
but look at us.
we kept walking.
even with scraped knees and tired hearts.
we're still here.
and one day, maybe,
the hurting won't be so loud.
maybe the light will stay longer.
maybe joy will feel like home, not a visitor.
until then,
i'll keep holding us together-
for you, for me,
for the girl who thought she'd never make it.
I know it's long sorry for that, but if you took the time to read it thank you because this is all of me and I put it into beautiful poetry.